Engineering an Overthrow
by LondonBelow
Summary: When Collins reveals his political leanings, Roger refuses to speak to him.


(written for speedrent 266)

**Disclaimer: RENT belongs to Jonathan Larson**

Collins flopped onto the couch with the usual dispirited air of a member of the political elite (someone who actually knows shit and doesn't vote for the prettiest/friendliest candidate) who has just mingled with, well, everyone else.

Roger glanced up at Mark, who sat at the table frowning at his notebook. "You wanna chase the fairy, Tom?"

"Ugh. No women."

"Uhh…" Roger checked under the sink; his voice emerged as a muffled shout. "We got beer!"

"All right."

Roger pulled out three beers, strangling them between wiry fingers. He set one on the table beside Mark, who promptly stammered, "Oh, I… I don't… I don't…"

"Now ya do." Roger smirked. He tapped Collins on the chest with a beer and asked, "Where'd you find this kid?"

The dull throb of a pre-headache protested as Collins sat up, took the beer and popped the top off the bottle. "Play nice," he said, as Roger settle himself in a chair, sitting sideways. "You agreed to that for the first two weeks."

Roger scoffed. "Didn't," he protested. "I promised to keep my hands off him for two weeks," at which announcement Mark appeared very frightened indeed. Roger gave him a leer and a tip of his bottle. "How ya doin'?" he asked, then popped the bottle open on his molars.

"That's not sexy."

"How was voting, Thomas?"

Collins shrugged. "Boring."

"Yeah, but it's important," said Mark, who was fresh out of college and still quite certain that he knew everything about everything. "I mean… if all Democrats didn't vote because it's boring—"

"You bums haven't voted."

"Absentee ballot, bitch!" Roger retorted. He stuck out his tongue.

Collins continued, "And anyway, I didn't vote Democrat," then he shifted an arm under his head and took a long drink of beer.

"What!?" It was the first time Roger and Mark unquestioningly agreed on anything. "You voted Republican?" Roger demanded.

"But," Mark protested, "you aren't… I mean, you're not the, the, um, the usual candidate—"

Collins lifted his head, turned to Mark and said, "You mean I'm gay?" Mark's mouth flopped and syllables emerged as he sought to explain that no, he hadn't meant that, it was just that… that… that… "Or is it because I'm black?"

"I… I… no, no, you can vote… however you want to," Mark sputtered, "regardless of your… of whether you're a, a homosexual or a colored person—"

Heads turned.

"A what?"

"African-American!" Mark practically shouted, hurrying to remedy his mistake.

Collins gave him an evil look, then settled on the couch again. "When we run out of food," he threatened, and said nothing more.

Mark's eyes widened and his mouth gaped. "Don't worry, babe. I got your back," Roger assured him with a quick wink. "So, Tom. You really don't support Clinton? What about the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy in the military?"

Collins shrugged. "_Now _how am I supposed to get out of serving?" he asked. "Next time there's a draft, some towel head's gonna put shrapnel in my ass."

"You are joking, right?" Roger asked. He needed to know, just to be sure.

"Shit, no! You think I want to be carrying a gun against someone who never did anything to hurt me? At least liking boys used to keep me a civilian! Now? Nope. Now I gotta 'fight for my country', when the time comes. And you know, you surrender your free will when you enter the military." Roger settled deeper in his chair and opened an old magazine on his lap. He was still listening with half an ear—and a quarter of the half-brain he had, Collins would say—but for the most part, ignored Collins' rant. "…like being an actor, I mean being_ trained _to take orders! You get out, you don't know what to do with yourself. Maybe you'll never have a functional relationship 'cause anything your partner tells you, you'll do. Never top again!..."

Roger checked his watch. When three minutes had gone by, he set down his beer and magazine, eased himself up, and rested a hand on Collins' forehead.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking your ass for fever."

"Uh, you will be doing nothing with my ass, thank you, I am not that desperate, even if you did find a third to do your Lucky Pierre."

Roger laughed. He took his hand off Collins' forehead and squinted at his eyes. "You seriously voted Republican?"

"Yes, I seriously voted Republican."

Mark piped up, "What about the welfare reform stuff?" he asked.

"Welfare reform," Collins scoffed. "I work and you two assholes drink my beer."

Mark protested, "I've been looking for work!"

But Roger just shook his head. "You're crazy," he said. "It's the only answer."

Collins' new political bent was not mentioned again until a week from that Friday, largely because, until a week from that Friday, Roger had pointedly refused to speak to Collins, though he observed loudly to Mark that Clinton had lost the Senate, extolled the virtues of social welfare, and bitched about Reagan.

But a week from Friday, Roger asked, "Hey, Mark, you wanna come see my set? I'll take you out for a drink after. And I'll keep my hands to myself," he added, when Mark looked uncertain.

After the set Collins showed up with Mark, and just as Roger was about to say, _What the fuck are you doing here, you stupid Bush-cock sucker?_, Collins said the magic words: "First round's on me."

So was the second round.

By Roger's third, Mark was three sheets to the wind and sleeping soundly and Roger was more focused on the basket of fries than on the beer. Mark whimpered and shifted; Roger draped his coat around Mark's shoulders.

"Who the fuck has three straight vodkas?"

"How are we going to get him home?" Collins wondered.

"I dunno, don't they give you special powers to further your evil when you vote Republican?"

Collins laughed. "Roger, I love you so much, man. You're a lot of fun."

Roger, wits somewhat dulled by alcohol and the fact that it was nearly one in the morning, asked, "Huh?"

Collins laughed so hard his body shook, and he had to hold his head in his hands until he could speak again.

"Fuck, Roger… you think I would _ever_ vote Republican?!"

THE END!

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